


Amnesia: The Mark Descent

by OrdinaryMiracle84



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8389360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryMiracle84/pseuds/OrdinaryMiracle84
Summary: This is a little crack!fic written by my awesome Husband :D
He added "Dedicated to my wonderful wife OrdinaryMiracle84. I love you more with every beat of my heart ❤" :D





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little crack!fic written by my awesome Husband :D
> 
> He added "Dedicated to my wonderful wife OrdinaryMiracle84. I love you more with every beat of my heart ❤" :D

He opened his eyes briefly before slamming them shut again and retreating back under the covers. Back to safety. Back to his happy place.

It was no use. The urge to micturate was too strong.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" he bellowed, threw back the red sheets and slowly rose to his feet. Mark rubbed his eyes, yawned loudly and set off in the general direction of the bathroom.

"OW. OW. OW. OW. OW. OW!" Mark yelled rhythmically with each step and then decided to stop walking. The pain started to ease. Gritting his gleaming white teeth, Mark set off once again toward the bathroom.

"OWWWWWWWWWW! What the fuck happened last night? I don't remember a thing" Mark ruminated, shrugging his shoulders as he realised that he had no memory of the last twelve hours.

Mark arrived at the bathroom door and reached out an arm. He gripped the handle tightly and stepped purposefully forward.

*THUNK*

"OWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Mark cried and took a couple of steps back, rubbing his face as he did so. The door was locked.

"Wait a minute. The door is locked?" Mark thought to himself. "But that must mean..."

There was a loud *CLICK* as the lock was disengaged and the door opened to reveal Jack standing there wearing only a towel, arms outstretched and his face bearing a devilish grin, his green hair shining brightly. At once the apartment was filled with a myriad different aromas all fighting for their place to be recognised as "the smell". Musk, sandalwood and a fresh sporty fragrance all initially jostled for position before combining into a scent that made Mark close his eyes briefly as he inhaled.

"BUDDY!" yelled Jack and walked toward Mark, arms opening wider. Jack threw his arms around the nonplussed Mark and pulled him in to a bear-hug.

"How are you feeling man?" Jack continued, still grinning widely from Irish ear to Irish ear. "I'm sore as FUCK!"

"Jack, what the fuck are you doing here?" asked Mark abruptly. "I don't remember anything. What the fuck happened?"

Jack stopped grinning, his face dropping into a slightly sinister scowl as he slowly took a step back from Mark. 

"Don't you dare man! Don't you fucking dare! We put it off for months and months, we both said it wasn't for us but we did it and there's no going back. Now you're trying to pull that I don't remember shit on me?"

Mark's eyes dropped to the floor as he scratched his chin gently, trying desperately to recall the events of the night before.

"What was I drinking?" asked Mark weakly. "I feel like I've spent the last six hours playing Happy Wheels...in real life! My legs are sore, my lower back is killing me and my ass feels like it's going to explode into a thousand tiny asses that all hurt just as much as their momma!"

Jack's facial expression softened into an almost imperceptible smirk, like an Irish Mona Lisa with green hair. And a beard. "You're not the only one who's hurting you know! I had to crawl to the bathroom earlier, my arse and thighs are burning with the fire of a thousand suns! You'll have to let me recover if you want to do that again."

"Jack, I still don't remember anything. Help me out here!" pleaded Mark, unable to remember even the tiniest of details from the night before.

Jack let out a little giggle and walked into the kitchen to make them both some breakfast.

"What would you like Markimoo? Just promise me that whatever I make will get eaten and you'll not be making another feckin' video with you staring at a Pop-Tart for ten minutes or some shit!"

"Why on earth would I stare at a Pop-Tart?" Mark replied incredulously, as if it was by far the most ridiculous idea for a video that he'd ever heard. "I might be tempted to juggle with them sure, but stare at one? They're not interesting enough!"

"Oh really? Really? But you're quite happy to stare at a banana? You're a fucking cereal-racist!" shouted Jack giddily.

"SHUT UP AND MAKE SOME COFFEE! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!" Mark pleaded as he got up and moved slowly into the kitchen, completely disregarding his screaming bladder.

Jack made the coffee in silence and slid a mug across the counter to Mark. They both sat, inhaling the sumptuous aroma of freshly-made morning coffee. For a short while nobody said anything, until Jack broke the contented silence.

"You're not shitting me then? You really don't remember anything?"

Mark frowned as he picked at the corner of the counter with his index finger. "Nope. Not a damn thing."

Jack took a sip of coffee and swallowed after a brief pause as the taste gently meandered around his mouth. "You don't remember that you put your hand on my arse?"

"No, I....what?"

"You don't remember that you had your face buried in my crotch?"

"NO I DON'T REMEMBER THAT! JESUS CHRIST JACK..." Mark's voice trailed off and he looked down at the counter. The corner of the counter underwent a second, more vigorous picking.

"You don't remember that I mounted you from behind, had one hand over your left shoulder and the other buried somewhere between your legs?"

"Jack, I swear that I don't remember any of it. I mean, did I enjoy it? Did YOU enjoy it? What does this mean for us? I'm scared of what this will mean for us." Mark said awkwardly, the anxiety starting to show in his voice.

"You loved it man! I mean so did I, but you were like a crazed animal once we got started. Your arms and legs were getting us both into all sorts of positions, no wonder we're both so sore! Don't worry though, it won't change anything between us. Who knows, maybe it'll bring us closer together now that we both know that we liked it" said Jack with a reassuring smile.

"OK. ok. I just wish...I could remember it, even just a little." Mark sighed. "I guess the only thing we can do is to do it again? I mean I'm so fucking sore, but I want to do it again with a straight head but I'm worried that I won't like it as much."

"I was hoping that you'd say that" said Jack as he reached for his coffee, took a sip and winked at Mark. "I fucking love playing Twister."

"TWISTER! YES!" shouted Mark unconvincingly, then finished his coffee silently before looking back up at Jack and allowing his mind to wander ever so slightly.

"One day Mark. One day."


End file.
